A Whole New World
by TundraBreeze
Summary: In this new world where people are faced with the daily struggle for survival, Tom will do whatever it takes to keep his family together and alive. Hal whumpage!
1. Chapter 1

**A Whole New World**

Disclaimer: I do not own Falling Skies.

A/N: Potential Spoiler alert for those of you that haven't watched the recent episode of Falling Skies, but Jimmy is still alive in this story.

**Chapter 1**

The rain was pouring down upon the group of soldiers. They weren't the kind of soldiers molded by boot camps, or forged by days spent in foreign lands combating a known enemy. They were teachers, parents, kids flung into a war in which their enemies where unknown, frightening, literally and figuratively _alien._ Faced with hardships even Jules Verne couldn't have fathomed, these people had managed to find a way to survive in this new world, and more importantly had found a way to fight back. This was why the group of six brave souls was out in the pouring rain in the middle of the night.

Earlier that day the group comprised of Tom, Hal, Ben, Dai, Maggie, and Jimmy had managed to case a large factory, which at one time or another had been used to can tuna. They were on a mission to find supplies, and a nearly unlimited supply of canned tuna would have been considered a treasure trove. The problem as they soon discovered was that the factory was now the base for a group of skitters and their harnessed children. Apparently the metal from the factory equipment was prime material for whatever the skitters were building. The skitters and their mechanical bodyguards had the harnessed children stockpiling bits of machinery, parts from the old delivery vans, and even cans of tuna into heaps by the main entrance of the factory.

"It's like their taunting us," exclaimed Dai, "putting all that food just out of our reach!" His stomach grumbled just at that moment, as if to emphasize his statement.

"Damn, I thought for sure we'd be gorging ourselves on a feast of tuna tonight!" added Jimmy.

"Now boys, who said we can't have our feast and a good story to tell over dinner," said Tom smiling. Ever the optimistic one, Tom always found a way to turn a negative situation into a positive one. The others looked at him a bit skeptically so he elaborated. "If we wait until night fall, we can use the cloud coverage to our advantage. Without the moon, it'll be pitch back, making it easier to keep track of the mechs. Ben and Jimmy will provide cover, and the rest of us will sneak into the factory. If it's clear, we grab as much food as we can, as many harnessed kids as we can, then we get the hell out. Then once were in the clear, I plan to blow this place sky high. I wager there are enough flammable materials in that factory to wipe out all those skitters and keep a fire burning for days. Plus, we'll be putting a dent in their supply of scrap metals".

"But all that tuna in the factory could keep us going for months!" cried Jimmy. "Why should we destroy it when just a handful of slimy skitters are around? I say we take out the skitters and their robot friends, and take control of the factory!"

Ben nodded in agreement. He was always eager to go in guns blazing if it meant he could slaughter a skitter or two, hell three if he was lucky. "I got to agree with Jimmy, Dad" he said, "why not take the enemy out now, when we have plenty of bullets and more than enough of us to take them all down?"

"Whoa, whoa" said the oldest Mason brother, "take it down a notch there Rambo. I think dad's right. The pros of destroying the building far outweigh the cons. Besides, there are still plenty of buildings in this town, including a supermarket that will keep us well stocked for a while". While the supermarket had provided the 2nd Mass with a fair amount of food, the supplies which the scouting team had procured from the store were well past expiration date, and were bland at best. But times were tough, and since most stores were well picked over, they were lucky to have found any food at all. People just couldn't be as picky as they once were.

After much discussion the two younger boys were outvoted, and it was decided that they would return to the factory that night to follow through with Tom's plan, with Weaver's blessing of course. So once the rain began, the six loaded up with guns, the special skitter killing bullets, and enough bags to carry back a fair amount of supplies, and set out once more.

At a spot overlooking the factory, the team went over the plan one last time. "So Ben, you and Jimmy will stay out of sight and watch the area for signs of skitters and mechs. If you see them approaching the area we'll be in, you give us a warning shot. We may need you to provide a distraction long enough to let us get out of there. Do not engage in any fighting by yourselves under any circumstances, is that clear?" the two nodded reluctantly and with some distain. "The rest of us will split into teams of two. Hal and I will gather as many supplies as we can and rig the place to explode as soon as we're far enough away. Dai, you and Maggie do what you can to gather up the harnessed kids, I counted four of them earlier today".

"How exactly are you going to set the place ablaze?" interrupted Ben.

"Most canneries use oil or water when canning food products. We'll just have to hope that this one uses oil. If it does, we'll gather as many drums of oil in one place as we can, and get a large fire going. When it reaches its fire point, around 600 or 700 degrees, it'll ignite. Thanks to the holes in the factory room, I wager to say some rain will get in which will help spread the oil and fire even more. Like I said before, this place will be burning for a while!"

"I thought you were a history teacher, not a chemistry teacher!" mumbled Ben, still a little put out that he was forbidden to take the skitters out himself.

Tom continued unfazed by his son's comments. "We'll rendezvous back here in two hours. If something happens and we're compromised, meet at the gas station we passed about a quarter of a mile back. Is everyone clear on their roles?" Everyone nodded and without further delay broke off into their assigned teams.

Tom and Hal led the way toward the factory, ducking from one wrecked car to the next, across what used to be a small parking lot. As they approached the complex, they could see only one mech patrolling the perimeter of the building, as they had expected. The group had learned from their observation earlier in the day that the skitters and a majority of the mechs were keeping to the northwest corner of the building, seemingly preoccupied by something there. When going over his plan with the others, Tom had explained that the only trouble they would encounter was this first mech, both in getting past him going in and then again on the way out. However, this should be little cause for concern if they were careful. Tom waited until the mech had rounded the corner of the building and then creeping forward, motioned for the others to follow him. What the team couldn't prepare for was what if anything lay in wait inside the factory. They could only hope and pray that it was worth the risk they were taking.

Slipping in past a door that was partially off its hinges, the crew split into their two teams, only briefly wishing each other luck. Dai and Maggie headed off to the right, while Tom and Hal took the left.

Equipped with a small flashlight, that lit only a few feet in front of them, they cautiously made their way deeper into the building. The first few rooms they checked harbored nothing but a few empty desks and chairs, their occupants had long since abandoned them in various states of disarray. After these first few disappointments the pair reached a set of double doors that held much more promise than the doors that they had already been through. Pushing open a door, Hal winced as it groaned with the movement; having not been used in a while, the thing had grown rusty. Hearing no sounds that would indicate skitters were inside, Hal poked his head into the room. After seeing what lay inside, he did his best to contain a holler of joy. Inside the large room were not cans of tuna as they had expected, but better yet was what could only be described as a mini armory.

The room, which must have at one point been a break room, was stockpiled with weapons of all sorts. Against the wall were stacked boxes of bullets, while guns of different sizes lined the several tables in the room. It was every fighters dream come true, a means of defense free for the picking.

"Look at all this stuff!" exclaimed Hal, moving further into the room, to allow Tom in. He whistled. "Man we sure could put these to good use", he said picking up grenade that had been left haphazardly on a box of ammo.

"Be careful with that!" Tom said automatically out of fatherly concern for his son's well being, but even when saying this, his mind was elsewhere. "Why on earth would they just have left all these weapons behind?" he wondered out loud, "it doesn't make any sense".

"Maybe they took all they could carry with them, and were too scared, or couldn't come back for the rest" answered Hal, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"But why go through all the trouble of stacking the boxes and laying out the weapons if they had just grabbed what they could and gotten the hell out of here?" he asked more to himself than to Hal. "And why choose the lunch room? There must have been a better place to store these. Somewhere closer to the exit would have made it much simpler for them if they were coming back to get these". Something didn't feel right to Tom, maybe it was the darkness, or maybe the stuffiness of the room, but he suddenly felt claustrophobic. It was then he realized that this little room only had one exit, through the doors they came in. Then it hit him, why he felt so uneasy, this felt like a trap.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, a loud shuffling noise could be heard coming from the hallway. There was then no doubt in Tom's mind that this was a trap, and now the trap layers were coming to collect their prizes. The Skitters were coming and fast.

"Grab a gun!" yelled Tom, who prayed that the things were at least loaded. If they were lucky they could hold the skitters at bay long enough to make their escape. He didn't want to waste the little ammo they had brought with them, the ones they had acquired from Pope, unless he had no other alternative. For now he hoped regular guns and bullets would do.

Hal had heard the noise of the approaching skitters and knew not to argue with Tom. Picking up a shotgun that lay in front of him, he checked to make sure it was loaded. Thankfully it was. Before following his dad to the door he made sure to pocket the grenade that lay on top of the box of ammo.

Slamming open the door, no longer caring about making noise, Tom looked out into the hallway. The skitters were fast approaching, opposite the direction they had come earlier, meaning that they at least had a clear path to the exit. He'd have to worry about Dai and Maggie later, first he had to get Hal and himself to safety. Opening fire on the nearest skitter with a gun he had grabbed from the table, he grabbed Hal's arm and ran as soon as he saw the skitters momentarily retreat. The two half ran, half stumbled through the darkened hallways. The flashlight was clutched between Tom's teeth, and the light followed with his every glance backward, so that Hal was unable to see a trashcan that stood against the wall. With a thunderous sound, Hal crashed into the object and found himself sprawled across the floor. His father did his best to hurriedly pick him back up, but the skitters had used the opportunity to gain more ground on the pair.

Tom open fired again, desperately trying to keep the skitters back. Out numbering them four to two, there was no way Tom and Hal would be able to fend the skitters off once they reached them. Hal wasted no more time in getting to his feet. He let loose on the skitters with the shotgun, more out of frustration than out of any hope of wounding one of them. It was in this moment of anger that Hal remembered the grenade in his pocket. "Surely even a skitter wasn't immune to such a weapon", he thought. At best they should be able to stun the creatures long enough to make it to the exit and alert Ben and Jimmy. Drawing the grenade from his pocket, Hal held up the device so his father would know his intentions, and motioned for him to get ready to run. Tom nodded and moved behind Hal so as to give him enough throwing room.

With the skitters almost on them, Hal pulled the pin from the grenade and threw it will all his might into the group of skitters. He watched for a brief second as it took a bounce, then another as it scooted across the floor, coming to a stop just behind the last skitter. It lay there almost innocently, but Hal knew that within a few seconds that little thing would turn deadly, so he turned to follow his father in a mad dash to get out of there in time. He made it only a few steps before he once again found himself sprawled across the ground. A skitter had grabbed a hold of his leg and was making as if to deliver a deadly blow.

Tom had made it several feet down the hall, when he turned to make sure Hal was with him. His eyes widened in horror, as he saw Hall pinned by a skitter. Before he could even think of coming to his son's rescue, a blinding light and a searing heat filled the hallway. The grenade had gone off. Time was up.

Tom was knocked down by the force of the blast into an open doorway he had been next too. As such he was saved from any significant damage. Hal however was not so lucky.

Just as the skitter had been getting ready to deliver him a potentially deadly blow, Hal too experience the blast. He being much closer felt it much more intensely than did his father. "I can't believe Ben might have actually been right this time" was his last thought before an overwhelming pain and then blackness enveloped him.

A/N: Hope you liked this first chapter. Hopefully I didn't bore anyone! Please feel free to review, any comments and/or critiques are very welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own falling skies.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the kind reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope the second chapter lives up to your expectations!

**Chapter 2**

Ben knew something was wrong before both either he or Jimmy had heard the explosion. Maybe it was because of what the skitters had done to him. He heard, saw, even smelled better than he ever had before- before those creatures turned him into some kind of freak. Ben didn't necessarily find that label fitting for his _condition_, but that's what people kept whispering as he passed by- _freak_. They all thought he couldn't hear him. It was laughable really. He could hear everything. So maybe it was this special skitter power he had or maybe it was just his intuition, but Ben had known something wasn't right.

The loud explosion from the factory only confirmed his fears. His companion started and gripped his gun tighter as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. "What the hell was that?" yelled Jimmy.

"I don't know," replied Ben, even his special abilities couldn't help him see through walls, "but we'd better go down there and check it out. They may need our help".

"I thought we were supposed to meet at the gas station if something went wrong", said Jimmy.

"Look, if you want to go back to the gas station go ahead. You can report back to Weaver, if none of us turn up in a couple of hours. I'm going down there though. I'm not just going to leave them to the skitters, or whatever else might have been in that factory," replied Ben, who had already started to head off toward the entrance to the building.

Jimmy debated for a second. If he was smart he'd hightail it back to the 2nd Mass and gather reinforcements. "Yes", he thought, "that would be the wise thing to do. It's not like I'm afraid to go down there." He was a little afraid though, but he was a soldier, and soldier's faced their fears. In the end his pride won out and he scrambled after Ben. "Wait up!" he called after his comrade.

When the professor came to his ears were ringing. "That can't be good" his jumbled up mind managed to work out. As he picked himself off the ground, he looked around slowly to get his bearings. As his eyes took in the deserted room, he realized he could still see; by some small miracle the flashlight he had clutched between his teeth back in the hallway had not only fallen with him, but was still in one piece. It took him exactly five seconds for everything to come rushing back to him and an additional four seconds before he was at the doorway screaming, "Hal!"

Hal was dead.

Or at least Hal thought he was dead. The darkness seemed almost tangible, like it was pressing down on him from every angle. It was so thick he thought for sure he'd able to reach out and pick up a chunk of it. But wait- could you feel pain when you were dead? Hal wasn't sure, but he was sure that he wasn't imagining the burning pain he felt throughout his body. Burning? Maybe he was in Hell. He sure hoped not. After all he'd been a decent enough guy, right? Only one way to find out he supposed. It took an enormous effort to raise his eyelids, which felt like two lead weights. Partly out of fear for what he might find once they opened, and partly out of fear that he might not find anything at all, he suddenly felt a surge of adrenalin course through him. Slowly his lead eyelids opened and he saw with some relief that he was in fact still alive, or at least mostly alive. Even through the burst of adrenalin Hal could feel a burning pain in his right leg and across most of the right side of his face. This was the side of his body that he automatically turned to look at the skitter that had grabbed a hold of his leg, and thus the side that had received most of the impact of the explosion. "The skitter!" Hal suddenly thought, moving the leg that had been grasped by the creature. To Hal's relief, no clawed hand was attached.

Hal looked around some more, taking in the wreckage that lay before him. Bits of the ceiling were hanging down into the hallway- that is if you could even call it a hallway any more. A wall must have partially collapsed for big cement bricks lay strewn across the floor, and bits of metal piping were sticking out here and there. The skitters, or what remained of the skitters, were buried in amongst this debris. Hal thought it was a miracle he had escaped the same fate as the creatures before him. He supposed he might not have been so lucky if that skitter hadn't knocked him to the floor. After all, the skitter must have blocked some of what had been flung their way. If he didn't despise the thing with every fiber of his being, and of course if the creature wasn't dead, he would have had to of thanked him.

Suddenly, Hal heard a noise coming from the direction of the blast. The rubble shifted and a figure approached him. Hal couldn't make out much, the only reason he was able to see anything at all was because the explosion knocked out a portion of the ceiling and the outside was now visible. The rain must have let up, because the moon was visible through some passing clouds, and its glow cast a faint light about the wrecked hallway. "Dad?" thought Hal for a moment. No it couldn't be. His dad had been behind him. His thoughts lingered only a moment on his dad- he hoped that since he was further down the hall that he had been spared as well- before he once again focused his attention on the someone or _something_ that was approaching him.

Before he could see it, he could smell it. It was a skitter. A stinking, hideous, damn skitter! How had it managed to survive he wondered. Maybe it was the backup seeking its companions; any skitter within a mile radius would have heard the explosion. Or maybe like Hal, it had just been lucky too. Either way it was alive and making its way toward him.

Hal looked around, his gun lay smoldering a few feet away, little good it would do him now. He could try and pick himself up, make a run for it. Hal doubted he could run even if he thought it might help. What he wouldn't do is go out without a fight. Keeping his eyes fixed on the creature before him, Hal shifted so that he was on his knees. His leg throbbed, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Blood oozed from a gash on his face, and he did his best to wipe the sticky liquid out of his eyes. Spotting a pipe laying just inches from him, he reached out and scooped it up. Slowly, gently he lifted his aching body to his feet. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep standing, but he'd give it all he had. He was a Mason after all, and Masons do not go out with a whimper.

Gripping the metal rod like a baseball bat, Hal glared at the Skitter and spat, "come and get me!" The creature paused momentarily in its approach. Hal would have sworn that it was laughing at him. If skitters were even capable of something like that. In an instant the creature hissed and lunched at him, its dark, bug-like eyes glittering in the moonlight. Hal blocked its first swipe at him with his metal rod, and he grinned in satisfaction as the pipe made a loud thwack against the creatures arm. The creature let out another hiss, this one in anger and made another swipe at Hal. This time the creature was faster, Hal smashed against the wall, the creature had swatted him just like a cat might have swatted a ball of yarn across the room. With a loud thud, Hal's body hit the wall and his already weakened legs gave out on him. He slid down the wall. His last stand hadn't lasted so long after all. Now the creature was coming to finish him off.

The skitter stopped just in front of him and raised its grotesque arm, preparing to strike the ending blow. It didn't come. The skitter's attention was drawn to a noise coming from just down the hallway. Maybe his dad was alright after all. The skitter hesitated for a moment. Despite the short lived happiness Hal felt at the possibility that his dad might come to his rescue, Hal felt his vision wavering. The adrenalin had worn off, and the careening into a wall hadn't helped matters any. His world suddenly lurched, and Hal found himself in the grips of the skitter. The sudden movement and the death grip his captive had on him was enough to send him over the edge. He blacked out for the second time that day.

Just as the skitter picked up Hal, Tom reached the doorway. He stopped dead as he took in the sight before him. The beam of the flashlight fell on the still form of his son, and the pair of long, alien hands wrapped around him. His heart stopped. He let out a chocked sob, as he took in his son's bloody form and predicament. Tom reached for the gun he always had strapped to his back, but it wasn't there. It had most likely been flung off when he was tossed by the explosion into that side room. What the hell was he going to do? This thing had his kid.

Before Tom could react, the skitter, with his prize in his grasp, took off in the direction it had come from. Tom took after it as quickly as humanly possible; he was a frantic parent after all. Unfortunately for Tom, the thing he was chasing wasn't human, and as such it could move at speeds that far exceeded his own. By the time Tom had reached the corner the skitter had disappeared around, they were nowhere to be seen. They were gone. Tom felt fear and despair bubble up inside him. He felt a failure. What kind of father was he that couldn't protect his own children, albeit from an alien race they knew almost nothing about? In frustration Tom punched the wall and let out a wail. "Hal!" was all that could be heard echoing through the dark corridors of the damaged factory.

A/N: Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter. I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. As always reviews/critiques are welcomed and encouraged! Thanks!


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